kny men falling obsessively in love with you after getting poisoned
Pairings: Kyojuro x reader; Sanemi x reader; Giyu x reader
Word Count: 4,3k
Warnings: it's getting heated but no real smut y'all, horny hashira so be aware, fluff fluff fluff
Links to pics underneath the tags!
Rengoku Kyojuro
Your heart almost beats out of your chest, the tray you’re carrying slightly trembling in sheer excitement.
You hate acting like a little teenage girl whenever he’s around. But since you were called in by Shinobu a few weeks ago and saw him again, you were stunned.
How is it even possible to fall for a man you barely know, a man who probably doesn’t even know a man? After all, you’re a no one compared to him. A demon slayer too weak to really fight, but skilled with medicine and herbs. If it wasn’t for Shinobu, you’d probably be dead already.
And him? He’s a hashira, the flame pillar, to be exact.
Your worlds couldn’t be any further apart. And yet, you find yourself swaying back and forth, your heart pounding against your ribcage by the prospect of seeing him again.
Shinobu ordered you to change his bandages and check on his wounds for possible infections. When he came in from his fight with the upper moon three, you were almost certain that he won’t make it. Day and night, you cared for his multiple gaping wounds, watched his heartbeat and vital status, stood up every hour of the day for his injection.
And he really made it. Thank heavens, that man was strong enough to really made it.
“If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be dead by now! I owe you my life!”
His kind words repeat themselves over and over in your head. Even though you know it’s ridiculous, that it’s impossible, that this man will never catch feelings for someone like you.
But you’re allowed to dream a little, right?
You knock on the door timidly.
“It’s me. I’m here for your bandage change and your meal,” you call through the closed door before opening it.
And getting greeted by his beaming eyes all over again.
“What a pleasant surprise! You always brighten my day with your presence!”
You can’t hide the little blush creeping up your face while you smile shyly at him, dropping your gaze as soon as you start to burn alive.
“Oh, (y/n)! I was hoping to meet you here! May I ask you to help me out?”
“Shinobu-san…Of course!” you stumble, swiftly placing your tray on a table nearby.
Why is Shinobu here? After Rengoku’s status was stabilized, she left him in your care exclusively. Is something wrong? Did he show any critical signs?
“Don’t worry, I’m only here because Rengoku-san generously allowed me to test a stimulant I’ve been working on for quite some time now.”
“A new stimulant?” you repeat, interest clearly peaking.
“As you know, Rengoku-san sustained damage to his nervous system, specifically sensory loss, nerve pain and extreme fatigue from time to time. In order to not only treat the symptoms but the cause, I created a stimulant out of wisteria and rare mountain herbs in hopes to accelerate nerve signal repair, increase his energy for recovery and help bringing back his full mental clarity in days rather than another few weeks,” she explains patiently, preparing the injection with skilled hands.
You can’t help but admire her. The amount of work she puts in creating antidots, stimulants, medicine and so much more is truly inspiring. How glad you are to call yourself her tsugoko.
“That sounds promising,” you reply with glooming eyes.
“It does, but apart from animal testing, I didn’t get the chance to examine it properly yet. I would never ask a patient to function as a test person, of course. But Rengoku-san insisted on trying it himself.”
“I know I can trust you. After all, you are very skilled within the medical field!” Rengoku interjects while watching the first shot entering his arm.
“Don’t flatter me, Rengoku-san! I actually learned a lot from (y/n)!”
“F…From me?” you mumble, face instantly growing hot.
“Of course! Your knowledge within the medical field is truly remarkable! I wish I knew as much as you do about herbs and medicine!”
“Shinobu-san, please! I…I don’t deserve your praise.”
“But you are great, (y/n)!” Rengoku beams directly towards you.
Your heart skips a beat, palms so sweaty that you automatically wipe them off your coat awkwardly. Does he really…Mean that? Rengoku doesn’t seem like a person who lies, especially not straight into your face. To be exact, he has to be the most decent and honest person you’ve ever met. So kind-hearted, so straightforward, so positive. Oh, you truly don’t deserve his praise-
“SHINOBU-SAN!”
It all happens faster than you’re able to comprehend. Aoi storms through the door without knocking, her uniform covered in dirt and fresh blood. Almost instantly, all color drains from your face. Something bad must have happened. Again severely hurt demon slayers?
“Tanjuro, Zenitsu, Inosuke and the sound hashira just came in – barely alive, the sound hashira misses his arm-“
Shinobu listens closely, so closely that she doesn’t realize the injection she put in Rengoku’s arm is already empty by now.
“I’m on my way. (y/n), please stay here with Rengoku-san look after his vital status. Please note any side effects the simulant might have. I’ll call after you if I need your help.”
And with that, the insect pillar is gone, leaving you alone with shaky fingers next to Rengoku.
What happened? You’ve heard that they left for a mission along with the sound hashira, that they actually encountered a high-ranked demon and that the snake pillar was sent after them. Tanjiro…He can’t die, he simply can’t. After all the things he’s been through, all the wounds you tend when he was in your care-
You shake your head.
No. This is not the time to think about things like this. Shinobu told you to look after Rengoku, this is your job now. You can go and look after Tanjiro and the others when you have the time for it.
“How are you feeling, Rengoku-san?”
“I’m feeling…strange,” he replies with unusual low voice.
You furrow your eyebrows, eyes scanning his skin and then the empty injection on the table.
The.empty.injection.
Your eyes grow wider and wider each passing second. Didn’t Shinobu-san say that she wants to test the injection step-by-step? She must’ve been so focused on Aoi and the others that she forgot to stop and wait.
Out of instinct, you spring up from your chair in sheer horror. Oh no. This might be bad. Really really bad.
“Rengoku-san! Are you…are you feeling strange in terms of bad?” you ask, your hands already on their way to work on your own.
Gently, you feel his forehead, his skin so burning hot that you flinch.
“Your skin is on fire! Are you in pain? Dizzy? Nauseous?”
“I… feel alive.”
His voice is hoarse, not in pain, not in weakness, but like it’s holding something back. You glance at him. He’s not hunched over or trembling, like a normal side-effect patient. No, Rengoku is sitting tall and straight, his muscles tense beneath the loose yukata, his eyes boring into you like you’re made of gold.
“You feel… alive?” you repeat, carefully noting it in your log.
Elevated body temperature. Confusion? Mood shift?
“I feel like I could lift a mountain. Run through an inferno. Shout your name from the top of Mt. Fuji.”
You blink.
“…Okay, slight delusions,” you whisper to yourself, jotting that down.
He shifts. The fabric of his yukata falls slightly from his shoulder, exposing more skin than it should, and you instantly avert your eyes.
“I’m so warm… but it’s not unpleasant,” he says slowly.
“It’s like… being wrapped in sunlight. Like standing beside you.”
You pause.
“Is it…could it be fever-induced hallucination?” you murmur, genuinely concerned now, hand reaching up to feel his forehead again.
But this time, he suddenly grabs your wrist and pushes you towards him. Firm. Steady. Very real. Very not hallucinating.
“Your hands are divine,” he breathes.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are when you’re focused?”
Your brain stalls.
“I…what?”
“I’ve been trying to be patient. Respectful. But this medicine, this miracle, it’s like it cleared the fog in my mind. I see you now. No…no, I’ve always seen you. I just never had the courage to go any further.”
You stare at him, still frozen. Is this a… symptom? Is he hallucinating you as someone else? No, you don’t allow yourself to even think about the opportunity that these are his real thoughts, that this is how someone like Rengoku Kyojuro feels about you-
“Rengoku-san, can you tell me your name? Just to make sure-”
“Kyojuro. Call me Kyojuro. Please, (y/n). Say it again. Say my name while looking at me.”
You pull your hand back slowly, still kept firmly in his strong arms. It takes all your strength to not let you fall into his tender touch, to not use this state of confusion for your own advantage.
“S-So, euphoria… that’s… interesting,” you whisper, writing it down with trembling fingers. “Cognitive function seems intact but slightly impaired-”
“I would go to war for you,” he mumbles.
You stop writing.
“I’d slay a thousand demons with my bare hands if it meant you’d smile at me for half a second.”
You blink. Once. Twice. Still not accepting the possibly that he really means what he just told you.
“…W-What?”
“Let me court you.”
Your mouth opens. Closes. Your brain is buffering.
“W-What did you just-?”
He’s suddenly close. Too close. One moment he’s sitting upright; the next he’s leaned toward you, golden eyes burning with emotion and something else, something more primal, something you’re only read about late at night.
“I want to hold your hand in public. I want to braid your hair - do you like hair braids? I can learn. I’ll fight my way through the seven layers of hell to make you breakfast. I want to share a bed with you, want to wake up to you in the morning and fall asleep next to you at night. Please, just let me.”
“WAIT…STOP!”
You slap your notebook shut and stare at him in horrified realization. You cannot ignore it any longer. Truth is, you know those symptoms even though you’ve never experienced them in connection with yourself before.
“Oh my god. You’re horny.”
He blinks at you.
“Yes.”
“Shinobu injected you with a concentrated aphrodisiac stimulant?!”
“It feels like every cell in my body is worshiping the ground you walk on. Is that what love is?” he gasps, clutching his chest.
You scramble to your feet – or at least you try with his hands firmly holding you in place on his lap.
“I-I have to go! I need to tell Shinobu!”
Is that…Something hard underneath you? You take a deep breath, desperately try to keep yourself form drowning in madness.
Wouldn’t it be way easier to just give in? Isn’t this what you dreamed about, to be his, to have his eyes only for yourself? Maybe this is the chance, maybe the only one you’ll ever get to be this close to him-
No. You vehemently shake your head and rip yourself out of his grasp before you go insane as well, stumbling backwards.
“WAIT (y/n)! DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE WITH MY FEELINGS-!”
You hear a thud behind you as he tries to get up and immediately collapses from overstimulation. Groaning.
“THE FLOOR IS COLD… BUT YOUR TOUCH WAS WARM…”
You sprint down the hallway like your life depends on it, yelling at the top of your lungs:
“AOI! SHINOBU-SAN! RENGOKU IS TRYING TO PROPOSE TO ME THROUGH FEVER DREAMS AND I THINK HE’S ABOUT TO START WEEPING INTO THE FLOORBOARDS!”
From behind the sliding door, you faintly hear:
“…I would name our children after all the flowers you like!”
Shinazugawa Sanemi
Just one look at him is enough to send you over the edge. That guy with his hot head, chickpea brain and muscles made of steel. What you hate most about Sanemi Shinazugawa?
That you never seem to reach him.
No matter how hard you try, no matter how rough you train. He is always one step ahead, always that inch better that decides the fight. And he doesn’t even try to hide his amusement about it.
“Lost. Again,” he comments dryly, his puffed chest an insult itself.
You drag yourself out of the dirt, huffing loudly. That fucking bastard.
“There was no need to push my face into the mud, you little shit,” you hiss through gritted teeth.
Oh, you’re so over this. His constant teasing, his unbelievable behaviour. Who on earth raised this dickhead?
“Please, stop fighting you two! Why can’t we all just get along and laugh a little more?” Mitsuri cries out next to you.
No. You can’t take it anymore, not even for Mitsuri. But…you let out your breath, try to calm down your beating heart. You don’t want to start a fight in her garden either, not when you know how much time she spends trimming the bushes.
“Fuck you, Shinazugawa,” you mumble before turning on your heel and stomping inside.
Honestly, as long as you don’t have to see that shitty grin, you’ll be fine. You slam the door shut behind you, allow your eyes to rest a little. You know he doesn’t deserve your anger, that he would stop teasing you if you’d stop reacting this way. But somehow, you can’t help it. Something about him triggers a part inside you that usually stays put.
There has to be a way to finally beat him, at least once in order to shut his filthy mouth. But how? How on earth are you supposed to surpass him when he trains just as much as you do? How?
Your eyes dart around the room with no real aim. Where are you, exactly? Mitsuri’s katana lays on display on a shelf, next to it a strange pink-colored potion.
You furrow your eyebrows, instantly drawing closer. Is this what she talked about with Shinobu? The powder she’s supposed to smear all over the blade of her katana in order to poison her opponents? No, Shinobu didn’t exactly state “poison”
“It will incapacitate your opponents in your unique way!”
Incapacitate.
Your eyes grow wider and wider.
Incapacitate…
You don’t waste another second. Maybe this is what you need to beat him. A small potion can’t hurt, right? He’s definitely been through worse. You shake a small amount into your hand and close it before heading back out.
“Huh, look who’s there! Done with your pity party, loser?”
“Fight me.”
He tilts his head ever so slightly, just in the way that almost makes you lose your cool. But you’ll have the upper hand now – even though only with a little bit of help.
Sanemi darts towards you without asking another question, aiming directly for your chest. He’s fast, ridiculously fast, and already halfway to slamming you into the dirt again when you throw your hand up.
POOF.
A pink cloud of shimmering powder bursts right into his face.
“What the fu…What the hell did you just-”
He stumbles back, waving his hand while coughing out loud. And you? You grin like a demon.
“Got you, bastard.”
“(Y/N)!!” Mitsuri’s voice shrieks so high-pitched it almost cracks the air just when you’re about to place your final hit.
You blink at her, smug expression faltering at her suddenly so serious tone.
“What?”
Her hands fly to her mouth.
“YOU DIDN’T JUST USE THAT PINK POWDER ON HIM?!”
You look down at your now-empty palm.
“Um. Yes?”
“That’s the experimental blend Shinobu gave me to test!! It’s not a paralytic - it’s a potent aphrodisiac! In small doses!”
You freeze mid-air.
“…What?”
Your widened eyes dart over to Sanemi, who’s rubbing his eyes, blinking rapidly. His face is already turning red - and this time not from anger. No, you’re immediately able to tell the difference.
Mitsuri is scrambling for her haori, already halfway to the gate.
“I’M GETTING SHINOBU! YOU NEED PROFESSIONAL HELP AND I DON’T WANNA DIE HERE!!!”
“Mitsuri-?!”
Too late. She’s gone, her pink curls disappearing into the wind.
You turn back to Sanemi…who’s standing there, chest heaving, flushed all the way to his neck, and looking at you like you just grew three heads. Or possibly like he wants to eat you.
“What the fuck… did you do to me?”
His voice is a low growl now, thick and rough. You take a few steps back out of instinct. Fuck, this is bad. Really really bad. Why on earth does she have something like this just randomly standing on her nightstand!?
“I…I didn’t know it was an aphro-!”
You don’t even see him move. Suddenly, he’s in front of you, next to you, everywhere you look. Before you know how to think your back slams against the nearest tree, bark digging into your shoulder blades. His hand lands hard on the trunk beside your head, and he leans in, breath hot against your cheek.
“You trying to mess with me?” he growls.
“You think this is funny?”
You gulp. Shit, this went lengths too far even for your taste.
“N-No! I swear, I thought it was poison…I mean - harmless poison!”
His other hand grabs your jaw - not rough, not painful, but firm. His thumb brushes along your cheek. His pupils are blown wide now, sharp jade eyes nearly swallowed in black.
“Why the hell is it you that I can’t get outta my head right now? Why do you smell so damn good?”
Your mouth opens, but nothing except a silent whimper comes out.
“I’m gonna regret this,” he mutters, and then his lips crash against yours.
It’s messy. Uncoordinated. All teeth and desperation, like he’s trying to burn the fire out of his bloodstream with your mouth. His body cages you in, solid muscle pressing you against the bark, and one of his hands curls into your hair like he needs something to hold on to before he breaks.
And you? Your brain has left the chat. Your hand clutches the front of his uniform. And you fucking kiss him back out of instinct.
“I hate this,” he groans against your lips.
“Hate you. Hate how you make me feel like I’m gonna lose control. Hate that I’m hard and it’s your damn fault-”
“S-Sanemi!”
“Say my name like that again and I’m gonna ruin both of us.”
His rough hands find the back of your knees. He yanks you into the air like you weigh nothing, presses you firmly against the cool tree.
You can’t catch your breath, don’t even want to. Is this…what you felt for him all this time? Not hatred, but desperation? It definitely feels that way, it definitely feels way too god to be true-
“And then she just threw the powder in his face and I literally had NO time to react. Can you imagine!?”
“Mitsuri, stand still and be quiet.”
“BUT SHINOBU-“
The insect pillar stops Mitsuri in her tracks, pointing towards you.
And Sanemi.
Intertwined.
Pressed against each other on a tree.
“Oh my!” Mitsuri shrieks in utter excitement.
“Let’s just get out of here and wait until Sanemi took care of the potion a natural way,” Shinobu chuckles before turning on her heels and literally dragging the love hashira behind her.
Tomioka Giyu
You hear them shouting from afar – again. Instinctively, you pick up your pace, rolling your eyes in sheer frustration. Why is it so hard for both of them to just live peacefully while knowing that the other exists? Aren’t both of them hashiras, working towards the same goal?
Apparently, Sanemi and Giyu didn’t catch that mission yet.
“Can you guys just act like boys your age? Or at least a little grown up?” you shout over the noise of swords clashing.
Your heart skips a beat even though you try to supress your hard feelings. Giyu’s looking well today, his hair a little messy from the fight, face covered in a thin layer of dirt while his eyes hush over you ever so slightly.
“(y/n)-AH!”
A second too long, apparently.
“Ha, that’s what you get for losing your focus, fool!”
Like in slow motion, Giyu collapses onto the floor, his cheek pierced open by Sanemi’s blade. You run towards him immediately, checking on him. He’s unconscious, a small cut now disturbing his otherwise so perfect porcelain face.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” you shriek into Sanemi’s face.
Carefully, your shaky fingers inspect the wound. Not deep enough to leave a scar, but still unnecessary. Aren’t they supposed to fight with wooden swords only after the last incident?
“Oh shit”, Sanemi suddenly mumbles through gritted teeth.
Your narrowed eyes dart towards him, take in the panic that sets in on his features. This means nothing but trouble. Your voice sharpens, hands balling into tight fists.
“What did you do?”
Sanemi drags a hand through his hair, eyes darting anywhere but yours.
“...I, uh…might’ve…kinda forgot-”
“Forgot what?!”
“That my blade was still dipped in poison from earlier,” he mutters, almost too fast to catch.
“Wanted to try out how it works on demons. Didn’t clean it after. My bad.”
You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your jaw drops. He put poison on his blade. He forgot to wipe it off before fighting Giyu. At first, you’re too stunned to speak, mind unable to follow his words. Then the volume hits.
“YOUR BAD?! YOU FORGOT YOU HAD A POISONED BLADE AND YOU STABBED A HASHIRA WITH IT?!”
Sanemi flinches like your words hit harder than any sword.
“He’s not dead, calm down-”
“CALL SHINOBU! OR AOI! OR LITERALLY ANYONE WITH MEDICAL TRAINING BEFORE I KILL YOU MYSELF!”
Sanemi swears under his breath, mutters something about “bossy brats,” and sprints off, boots pounding against the courtyard stones.
You turn back to Giyu, bracing for the worst - except…
His lashes flutter and his eyes crack open. His pupils are slightly dilated, his breathing uneven. The sight makes your stomach twist, not entirely out of relief, though.
“Giyu? Can you hear me?” you ask, gently touching his cheek.
His gaze locks on yours immediately, sharp as a hawk. But instead of confusion or anger, there’s… something else there. Something warmer. Something you’ve never seen before in his eyes.
Your fingers freeze on his skin.
“You came,” he replies quietly, almost like it’s the only thing that matters.
“Of course I did, you idiot, you just got poisoned-”
His hand shoots up and catches your wrist, holding you there. You blink, startled, as the faintest flush spreads across his cheeks.
“You’re… close,” he murmurs, voice low and a little unsteady.
“I like it when you’re close.”
Heat floods your face.
“Giyu-”
“I was… dreaming about you.”
His thumb brushes along the inside of your wrist and you swear your pulse skips more than just once.
“It felt real. And now… you’re here. Still feels real.”
Your mouth opens to protest, but the way he’s looking at you makes your brain stall, like you’re the only thing keeping him tied to the ground.
His thumb is still stroking your wrist, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing the way your pulse jumps under his touch. You try to pull back, but his grip only tightens. No matter how much you longed for his touch, no matter how good this feels, you need to do something. What if he dies because you were too selfish to call for help?
“Giyu… you need to rest-”
“I don’t want to rest.”
His voice is firmer now, almost rough.
“Not when you’re here.”
You swallow hard. This is getting harder each passing second
“You’re poisoned, you’re not thinking straight-”
“I’m thinking perfectly,” he interrupts, his gaze locked to yours.
“Clearer than I have in years.”
Your breath hitches when he sits up suddenly, the movement forcing you back onto your heels. His knee brushes yours, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. He leans forward, so close you can feel his breath fan across your lips, his body occupying yours fully.
“You keep running around… patching everyone up… looking at me like I’m just another patient.”
His eyes darken, sparkle down at you unpromising.
“But I’ve been watching you.”
Your heartbeat stutters.
“W-What?”
His free hand lifts, fingers ghosting over your jaw, tracing the curve of it with featherlight precision.
“Your voice. Your hands. The way you smell after you’ve been working with herbs… it’s stuck in my head.”
You open your mouth to tell him to stop, that this is the poison talking, but then his nose brushes yours.
“Tell me to let go,” he murmurs.
“Tell me to stop wanting you right now, and I will. But if you don’t…”
His thumb grazes your lower lip, slow, careful.
“…I’m not sure I can.”
Your pulse is pounding so hard it’s dizzying. His breath is warm, face inches from yours, the low rasp of his voice sending heat curling in your stomach. This is a dream coming true, a scenario you’ve had in your head more than once. Why not enjoying at least a few seconds of finally feeling him this close?
“Giyu…”
And then his forehead rests against yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck like he’s anchoring you in place. His lips almost brush yours, just enough for you to feel the faintest drag of heat before he pulls back a fraction, gaze still locked on yours.
“I need you to stay,” he whispers.
“Even if they say it’s the poison, you’re all I’m able to think of, (y/n). You’re all that I want-”
Somewhere in the distance, you hear Sanemi’s heavy steps approaching.
“I FOUND AOI – STOP INTERACTING WITH HIM, YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE! (Y/N)!)”
“Fuck”, you hiss.
“Let’s get out of here”, Giyu suggests, dragging you onto your feet.
Are you really this selfish, so focused on your own needs that you’d ditch his proper medical care for it?
the first time you heard megumi laugh was when the divine dogs, once summoned per your request, ran over straight to you. you were in his dorm when the sudden topic of shikigami came up. you only got to see them while on missions and rarely get to touch them before they’re launching at curses.
so, you obviously took the chance to try to pet the divine dogs. after a faux-irritated look at megumi and something muttered underneath his breath, megumi finally summoned the two large dogs. before you could let out an awe, they ran straight towards you. a huge ball of fluff weighted onto your chest, making you fall back onto the floor.
megumi made a sound of surprise as the white dog lied on your chest, the black one settling his head in your lap. “oh my—megs! why is he so heavy?! oh—” he would’ve took you seriously if it hadn’t been the laughter cutting off your words.
if only you could see past the white fluffy fur, you’d be able to see the growing smile on his normally stoic face. the sight made his chest warm with love as the divine dogs licked your face, making you sputter out nonsense about asking him to save you. you kept on trying to wipe your face, trying to stop the dog from destroying your makeup. it was then when you heard soft laughter from the man in front of you.
you finally managed to push the divine dogs off of you and shot up, watching as megumi tried to cover his laughter with his hands. it wasn’t a loud laughter like itadori or kugisaki. it was softer and genuine, like it was something just for you. even better, he had one of those smiles that made your cheeks flush.
when the laughter finally faded away and the divine dogs surrendered, backing away from you, he froze. looked at you staring at him intensely. and his face turned bright red, quickly turning away from you while trying to cover his face with the hoodie he had on.
“i saw you laugh!”
“i did not.”
but he was still smiling when he thought you looked away.
I LOVE YOUR YUJI WORKS and i see u love yuji sm sm sm and i’m here to share a little earworm cuz it’s got me in a chokehold
yuji in boxers… like…. those tight boxers that don’t do anything to hide his outline……
AAUFHFHFHF FAT COCK YUJI
✩꒱ tighty whities — ft. yuuji itadori .ᐟ
🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ characters are adults. yuuji itadori & fem!reader. handjobs, big dick yuuji, counting the inches, roommates to lovers -> every once in a while yuuji pulls out his tightest, teeniest pair of underwear and every once in a while you’re curious enough to see what they’re hiding.
thank you sm friend! i love him so much i want to live between his heart and lungs sooo bad idk what this is im feeling Lustful.
yes yes yuuji in those sickening tight white undies. i feel like perhaps he bought them by mistake and only wears them when he’s out of his usual boxers. super tight, hugging the slender curve of his waist and perfectly outlining his girth even though it’s tucked away. you can clearly see whenever he leaks through them because the thin white fabric stretched over the meatiest parts of him barely conceals anything. a darkness patch at the seam always gives yuuji away.
he’d be kind of embarrassed about them, constantly adjusting himself around you, shifting because his balls are practically bursting through the threads. if you’re roommates or best friends, you’ve definitely seen them in the wash or the laundry you do together and he always snatches them up with blatantly obvious red cheeks because they’re stupidly small for him.
and for a while, you think that yuuji really is that small.
until you hear the way his short-term flings cry his name in bed like it’s the only prayer they know. until you start listening out for the quiet, whimpering praise he offers them when they take all of him so well, inch by inch like good girls.
one girl stops you by the fridge one morning, yuuji’s shirt clinging to her curves and covering the fingerpad shaped bruises on her hips. “i don’t know how you live with him without jumping his bones,” she’d giggled, reaching for your milk. “he’s got the whole package, you know?”
you start looking at itadori a little differently. your eyes fall from his face to his print when you greet him after work or in the mornings when he’s back from the gym — attempting to discern the type of underwear he’s wearing based on what shows through his sweats. and you’ve always been touchy with each other, you’re friends and he’s great for cuddles, but now when you’re relegated to his lap during movie nights with fushiguro and his girlfriend, todo and nobara, oh! and maki and yuuta — you can feel the difference in his girth pressed against every time he shifts.
when he’s got those little tight boxers on that struggle to contain his hard on. the one you both ignore.
it’s one of those same movie nights where you cross boundaries for the first time. nobara stays over, too drunk to go home and be on her own, so you offer up your room and hunker down with yuuji because todo’s got the couch this time. in the mix, you some how manage to convince your pink haired roommate that you sleep better when he’s around. not just because he sleeps naked, you know this — you’ve been waiting on it just to see if the rumours are true.
yuuji scratches the back of his neck sheepishly with a soft blooming blush as you undress for bed and you try not to be obvious when your eyes trace the hardlines of his body right down to his crotch. those stupid tight white boxers you can’t seem to ignore now.
“sorry, know it’s a lot.” because you keep staring and he keeps twitching underneath the fabric and you have no idea how to tell him he’s making your mouth water. “i can put some sweats on—?”
you’re all too eager when shake your head no. “i-it’s your room. sleep however you’re most comfortable!”
naturally you end up snuggled with itadori in bed. surrounded by him. an excuse to be close. yuuji in nothing but those evil little boxers and you in morning but his shirt. your face in his neck for safety from the horror movie you’re watching and his arm loose around your waist. and you really can’t help it, when his cock is sitting there all fat and heavy and weepy, kicking because the air in the room is against his feverish skin — your fingers dance down to the waist band playfully at first. you’re touchy. friends do this… but then they hit the sinful swirl of his pink happy trail and everything shifts.
lust starts to bubble within your eyes, usually so sweet and innocent. you just have to know if he feels as big as he looks in them.
yuuji exhales shakily. not looking at you. “you’re not watching the movie, are you?”
a hint. a chance. you take it. “can i touch it?” your ask is a breathless whisper — as light as summer’s breeze and barely there. like a figure in the night. touch him, rub on him, do everything you’ve been thinking about for months.
he’s already straining, clenched at the abdomen to keep himself from cumming from the friction against his inner seam. yet he grows under your inquisitive attention, throbbing in a dull rhythm that calls up your greed as though it were following the beating lull of a siren’s song.
yuuji’s cheeks glow warm in the dimness, a rose tinted flame in the dark. he swallows. “if you wanna… j-just be careful, yeah?”
that’s all it takes.
his head tips back in a filthy shameful moan — pink hair askew like the flutter of petals — and his throat bobs as he swallows down a flurry of curse words once your hand slips past the waistband. your grip curiously stretches the tightness of boxers as your tiny hand wraps around his fat girth. sticky, pulsing with arousal, prominent veins forming indents in your palm.
“you feel so big, yuuji,” your nose brushes his pulse point with the same gentleness you would with your lips for a kiss. it’s as if you’re trying to inhale his life force, tuck yourself impossibly closer. he feels swollen in your hand, cock beating as unsteadily as his heart, and he oozes premature white into the crevices of your finger prints. “sensitive too.”
“nngh, i know,” whilst itadori’s hips jump without his control and forces his length through your first, the weight of his crown drops to yours. the two of you share a view, your slippery hand in his near-see-through boxers doused with slick and precum beading from his sappy mushroomed tip. “s-sorry, fuck. ‘m just so hard and you’re so pretty and you smell so good.” he admits to you quietly in a high pitched whine, like a secret exchanged between two lovers at a rendezvous point. for your ears only. no one else gets to know how wrecked you have him.
the bulbous head of his cock is raw and red, shiny, as it peaks out from the elasticated band of his boxers — only because you’ve stroked him to full hardness. he no longer fits in the fabric. you thumb him there in comforting circles, spreading his arousal in the same manner that drool spreads across your tongue.
long, dark lashes flutter against your forehead like angel’s kisses and you squeeze around every inch that slides through your hold — sharing airy moans the more yuuji leaks against your tight knuckles. “you could make me cum like this, y-y’know? in my boxers like a — fuck — like a teenager,” yuuji stutters, chasing words that don’t make sense on his tongue. hips running after the solace your soft strokes. “makes me feel so filthy, but i’ve been waiting for you. t-to notice? how badly i’ve wanted it to be you touching me like this. i’d do anything for you. anything, baby girl.”
his honesty turns and twists your guts into feverish knots.
“then will you?” you purr artlessly. eyes on the string of drooly white leaking from his sensitive tip. “wanna see how much you cum too.”
“god yes, i can cum. i’ll cum for you. just —!” yuuji’s large hand slips around your wrist and he guides you. helps you tug on the parts of his dick that make him gargle and struggle for breath. he bucks upwards, chasing pleasure and the heavenly solace your fist has to offer. “that’s it, just like that. make me cum, been waiting for so long.”
you’re in awe of it all. the ripple of his abs as he thrusts, the way moans coil in between the letters of your name as they leave his lips. you touch yuuji like you were made for it, jerk him off as though it were instinct. squeezing him every time his hips draw back, circling his tip over and over in languid runs of your thumb around the world.
he takes that as a sign, permission to let go of the unravelling knot he’s been trying to hold together since first laying beside you. on instinct, like his body knows nothing else, he squeezes you tight against him — cheek smooshed against your crown, shaky loud and whimpers in your ear that have your own underwear damp and he snaps.
like a twig with little resistance to pressure.
“oh my god — baby, shit!”
yuuji’s release is sizeable, viscous like lava flow as it rockets hotly up his abdomen and pools amongst the ridges of his abs and belly button. white against gold. his underwear is positively soiled all the way through, crude stringy cum gathering amongst his balls and your wriggling fingers as you jerk him through his high. where his back bows towards the ceiling as though the heavens have come to collect his sweet soul and his thighs shake like his foundations are unsteady.
and even after all that, all the ropes of hot white that hit his skin — he’s still hard and swollen, monstrous in size that suddenly dawns on you as yuuji rolls you onto your back. landing on top.
his shoulders, as they heave, block out the glow of the movie playing behind him — crowding you against the pillows, acting as a shield to hide you away from the world and you feel him heavy against your tummy. cold with slick but heated with arousal at the same time.
your roommate grins, buzzing and slow. “how many inches is the biggest dick you’ve ever taken?”
“i don’t… know? i’ve never measured?” you squeak, suddenly flushed with a delicious mix of horniness and fear. “why?”
yuuji clicks his tongue then, big hand sliding up your face to cover your mouth — his free one guiding his erection between your now parted thighs.
“just wondering, how much of me you’ll be able to take tonight.”
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
𓂃⋆.˚ yuji is the type of boyfriend who makes you feel loved without even trying. nothing feels forced with him. affection comes so naturally that half the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
𓂃⋆.˚ he always looks genuinely happy to see you. it doesn’t matter if you’ve been gone for five minutes or five days, his face lights up the second he spots you and it’s impossible to miss.
𓂃⋆.˚ if you’re walking together, he’ll naturally match your pace without thinking about it. if you’re shorter than him, he’ll slow down. if you’re tired, he’ll notice before you even say anything.
𓂃⋆.˚ he loves holding your hand. not because he thinks it’s romantic, but because he likes being connected to you somehow. he’ll reach for your hand automatically while talking, crossing the street, standing in line, or just sitting next to you.
𓂃⋆.˚ yuji pays attention to the things that make you happy and quietly makes them happen whenever he can. he’ll remember your favorite drink, your favorite snacks, the songs you always replay, and the things that cheer you up when you’re upset. he could even remember your favorite socks pair or hair tie!
𓂃⋆.˚ whenever something good happens to him, you’re the first person he wants to tell. he’ll come running over with the biggest smile on his face just to share the news with you.
𓂃⋆.˚ he absolutely loves listening to you talk. it doesn’t even matter what the topic is. if you’re excited about something, he’s excited too. he’ll sit there smiling, asking questions, and getting invested in things he knew absolutely nothing about five minutes earlier. your happiness is his happiness.
𓂃⋆.˚ if you’re cold, you’ll have his jacket around your shoulders before you even get the chance to complain about it.
𓂃⋆.˚ he gives the beeeest hugs. not the quick, casual kind. the kind where he wraps both arms around you completely and squeezes you like he’s making sure you’re really there.
𓂃⋆.˚ yuji is naturally protective, but not possessive at all. he trusts you completely. he just wants to make sure you’re safe, comfortable, and okay. he’d do anything for you, anything! even if it means risking his own life.
𓂃⋆.˚ if you’re having a bad day, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to be with you. he might not always know exactly what to say, but he’ll stay until you’re feeling better because leaving you alone when you’re hurting simply wouldn’t feel right to him.
𓂃⋆.˚ he worries about people more than he lets on, and that includes you. if you tell him you’ve arrived somewhere safely, you’ll practically be able to feel his relief through the screen. anytime you’re alone or going home he’ll always make sure you made it home safely or the area you’re in is crowded and lively. if he knows you’re anxious he’ll call you all the way to your appointment so you have someone to keep you company. he always says “talking helps” and he means it.
𓂃⋆.˚ he loves making you laugh. sometimes he’ll intentionally act ridiculous just to hear you giggle because seeing you smile immediately improves his mood. sometimes he just won’t notice how naturally silly he is, but as soon as he discovers that specific thing made you chuckle he’ll star doing it every day.
𓂃⋆.˚ whenever you’re upset with yourself, he’s the first person to remind you of all the things you’re good at. not in an exaggerated way either. he’ll list specific things because he genuinely notices them.
𓂃⋆.˚ he’s very physically affectionate without being overwhelming. an arm around your shoulders, his hand resting on yours, leaning against you while you’re sitting together, absentmindedly brushing your hair out of your face.
𓂃⋆.˚ yuji is the type who checks whether you’ve eaten before checking on almost anything else. he’ll always gift you big snacks packs from seven eleven and cover up the calories behind with the marker.
𓂃⋆.˚ if you’re tired, he’ll immediately tell you to rest. if you’re sick, he’ll worry ten times more than necessary and spend the entire day asking if you need anything.
𓂃⋆.˚ he gets excited about spending time with you no matter what you’re doing. a fancy date, a movie night, a trip somewhere new, or just sitting around talking all sound equally good to him as long as you’re there. he loves taking pictures of you during dates and printing them with his polaroid to fill his album.
𓂃⋆.˚ he would absolutely brag about you when you’re not around. not in an embarrassing way, but in the way someone talks about a person they’re genuinely proud of. he wants everyone to know you’re the best girlfriend ever!!
𓂃⋆.˚ whenever you accomplish something, he’s somehow even more excited than you are. he’ll celebrate every little victory like you’ve just won an olympic gold medal. he’ll show up with with whistles, confetti, mochi and a plastic trophy.
𓂃⋆.˚ yuji is surprisingly observant when it comes to your emotions. people sometimes mistake him for being simple because he’s straightforward, but he’s actually very good at noticing when something feels off.
𓂃⋆.˚ if you fall asleep next to him, he won’t move for ages because he doesn’t want to wake you up. even if his arm goes completely numb, he’ll just suffer in silence.
𓂃⋆.˚ he trusts people easily, but his trust in you runs deeper than that. you’re one of the few people he feels completely comfortable being vulnerable around.
𓂃⋆.˚ there are moments when his usual cheerful smile disappears and you can see how much he carries inside. during those moments, he doesn’t need advice or solutions. he just likes knowing you’re there with him.
𓂃⋆.˚ after everything he’s gone through, one of the things he values most is having someone he can come home to. someone who makes the world feel normal again. you’ll never catch him with a sad pout on his face, not even after the most traumatizing sorcery fight. he’ll always encourage a smile on his face every time he sees you. on one hand, it’s to not make you worry, while on the other it’s simply his nature to prioritize your happiness and safety before his. he’d eventually share details about what happened while you two are cuddling.
𓂃⋆.˚ for all his strength, all his courage, and all the impossible things he faces every day, yuji is incredibly soft when it comes to the people he loves. the way he looks at you, listens to you, worries about you, and celebrates you makes it obvious that loving you is never something he treats lightly. it’s one of the most important things in his life.
warning: jealous mark, he may be a little toxic, phone sex
you took the selfie with him in mind - tipsy on a couple glasses of wine and wearing the lingerie you've had hidden in the back of your drawer from when you purchased it two years ago. you video call your girl friend, cheeks hot when you ask her if it's a good idea to send it to him. you're obviously joking, you would never even dream of it, but she plays along asking you to send the photo to her. you go to your text messages with her and hit send. she waits patiently on the other end, both of you silent while the photo loads before you hear your phone ping. your blurry gaze focuses in on a text notification from mark:
oh my god
your throat goes dry. you sit up immediately, clicking on the notification to see you accidentally sent it to the man you've crushed on for years and not your friend. you furiously type away, trying to come up with an excuse:
mark i'm so sorry that wasn't meany for yoi please forget this ehver happemed.
while you're busy panicking mark is sitting on top of some skyscraper, legs dangling over the ledge as he stares down at his phone. he stopped mid flight when he heard your unique notification go off and god, he was not expecting that.
his hand tightens on his phone when he reads your message. what the hell do you mean you sent it to the wrong person? who the hell was the right person?
sure, no problem, he types before backspacing. he tries a couple more nonchalant sentences before erasing them all and taking a deep breath through his nose. he battles between coming off as unaffected, or finally growing a pair and doing something about his decade long crush. he focuses on the photo again, studying the curves of your delicate body. appreciating the dainty lace that hardly hides your hardened nipples, imaging your fingers tracing the buds to get them to perk up. your skin: so supple and smooth and freshly lotioned... he groans, which quickly turns into a growl of sorts when he looks just below the photo to see your last sent message: "that wasn't meany for yoi" ...were you drunk?
who was this meant for?
he types out and sends before he can chicken out. your typing bubble taunts him while he waits for you to ruin his night just for the bubble to disappear completely. his thumb presses your contact photo, before selecting the video call option. he bites his bottom lip as he waits for you to pick up, not entirely sure if you even will.
back in you room, his contact photo takes up your entire screen and your body goes rigid. you hurriedly tell your friend and she sounds ecstatic. "oh my god pick it up!"
"you can't be serious," you splutter out but she's already hung up on you. you lean back against your headboard, making sure the phone is angled to where you couldn't see your cleavage before accepting the call. you must be drunker than you thought.
on the other end of the screen is an equally flushed mark. he calls out your name, his voice sounds strangely strained. his jaw line is also more pronounced than usual, like he had been grinding his teeth.
"mark?" you say back, taking in the night's sky behind him, "where are you-" he cuts you off.
"who did you mean to send that to?" you swallow deeply, his deep brown eyes staring back at you. he's unblinking, like he's waiting intensely on your answer.
"i don't know," you say softly.
"don't.. don't do that to me," he speaks like it hurts. "you need to give me his name," his voice is dripping in desperation. his eyebrows are furrowed in pain, lip jutted out in a mean pout. you were not expecting that.
"you're not mad i sent that to you?" you murmur in observation.
the way he says your name snaps you back to earth. "answer me first," he demands. time feels unreal as you stare down at your screen, the room beyond your phone is coated in static. you don't answer and he speaks up, "no, i'm not mad that you sent it to me. i'm mad that it was meant for someone else," a beat passes before he spits out in an attempt to recover, "you never told me you were with someone".
"i'm not," you say simply, but that's all you say and his insides continue to twist.
"so, you'd send that photo to a guy you're only casually talking to?" now your eyebrows furrow, confused why he is so obsessed with some made-up guy.
"no, it wasn't meant for any guy, mark," your tone is sharp once your drunken brain finally puts it together that he's accusing you of being easy for a guy that doesn't exist.
"that's all you had to say," he says, exasperated. his shoulders slump like the weight of the world just lifted off of him. his puppy eyes are still staring at you, making you dizzy. "so you're just... taking cute photos of yourself?" he asks hesitantly, tone much lighter than before. your face immediately heats up. he thought the photo was cute? you nod, and he continues, "so how did it end up sent to me?" good question; you did not want to answer that. you shrug, exposing the strap of your bra. "you're wearing it right now?" he says, sounding like he just got punched in the gut.
"y-yeah," you breathe out.
"can..." his eyebrows are furrowed as he thinks, "can i see it again?" your mouth falls open and it's then you notice his pupils are blown out. you don't answer, but you tilt your camera down a little, just enough he can see the lace pushing up your cleavage. what the hell are you two doing?
your heart beats loudly in your ears as you watch mark's intense gaze.
after a few passing seconds he finally speaks, "lower?" you oblige.
you pull your hand back and he gets to see your entire chest; the beginning of your waist visible as well. he wets his lips. "m-more?" he tests his luck again, feeling greedy. you adjust yourself before pulling the phone all the way back to where he can now see your lacy panties, and the defined line of your folds swallowing the fabric. you're wet, it's obvious even from the other end of the screen and mark has to grip the ledge he's perched on to keep himself from free falling. "oh fuck," he sucks in air and your cunt twitches. "i'm so sorry, you can punch me if i'm overstepping but," he lets out a strangled groan, "can you please touch yourself?" his inflection makes it sound like a question, but you take it as a command. your free hand reaches down and you trace the line between your lips. you can tell he shifts from the shakiness of his camera before it finally stills and you hear a satisfied sigh grace his lips. his phone begins to shake ever so slightly and almost rhythmically, the image of mark blurring in time to what you presume is him stroking his cock. you can hear when his precum finally wets his ministrations, and now you're so turned on your body physically shudders with need.
you continue what you're doing, teasing your pussy before finding your clit. the feeling is muted by the fabric but your back is arching nonetheless. "fuck you're so beautiful," the word spill out, pure admiration coats his tone and his praises only continue when your slip your panties down. "god she's even better than i imagined."
"you imagined what my pussy looked like?" you ask and he scoffs like you asked the most obvious question known to man.
"there isn't a day that passes where i don't," with that heart stopping admission you insert a finger and mark pants.
"i wanna see what you look like, mark..." you whine pathetically and he obliges immediately, turning the screen around to show you his intimidating cock. your eyes widen and mark's tip spits out a glob of precum at your reaction.
"you like it right?" he asks, desperate for your validation. once he sees you nod he goes back to stroking it while you watch. he glides his hand up and down his shaft, making sure to give it good squeeze once he reaches his tip. your cunt clenches around your fingers as you imagined what he would feel like inside you and mark catches it. "fuck you look so tight"
How would Mark and his variants react to you getting drunk?
[Reference sheet for each variant!]
[Suggestive material below – reader discretion is advised]
Main!Mark would try to play it off like he thought it was funny, but deep inside he’d be kind of freaking out. He wants everyone in his life to be on guard because the universe is fucked, and he can’t be there to protect everyone at every moment of the day. But, at the same time, he knows that you deserve to cut loose and have fun sometimes and the last thing he wants to do is put his fears and burdens on you. So instead he’s half laughing at your drunken antics while doing a full perimeter check every few minutes. Poor man.
Viltrumite!Mark is confused at first. He’s never seen someone drunk before. His people don’t really have the metabolism to get inebriated, and he’s never spent enough time around any other species to see this kind of behavior. Once you explain to him that you are intentionally intoxicated, he goes through several stages of reactions. Judgement. Annoyance. Curiosity. Then finally, genuine amusement. He’s trying to maintain his stoic composure but can’t help but try to mess with you in subtle ways. Like dropping something and asking you to pick it up just to watch you fumble and fall and insist you can get it without help. Yeah. He’s entertained.
Lensless!Mark is searching the entire universe and threatening every scientist known to man to get him something that will allow him to get drunk, too. You look like you’re having so much fun! He wants to be a part of that too. And if he can’t find a way to get liquored up then his own natural crazy endorphins will have to do. He cranks them up to ten (the man has control over his insanity like most people have control of their composure) and starts encouraging you do to the most insane things with him. Drinking and flying is absolutely on the list, and you’re too fucked up to think about how stupidly dangerous it is. This man’s a menace.
Sinister!Mark initially is annoyed, but once he realizes how suggestable and easily manipulated you are in this state, he’s all in. To everyone’s surprise though, he doesn’t get violent. No no, this man gets sexual. He’s getting you to do things you’re normally too shy or prideful to do. He’s bringing out rope and whips and handcuffs. He’s contorting you into positions that you’d normally complain about, but tonight you’re just giggling. The spark in his eyes would leave a sane person scared. But you’re not sane right now. And he left his sanity behind a long time ago. Sinister might be pouring you drinks more often after tonight.
Omni!Mark genuinely doesn’t approve, and you know it. So, you try to hide it. But the hiccups keep slipping out, and your stare is glazed over, and you’ve suddenly acquired the memory span of a goldfish. He asks you outright. “Are you drunk right now?” You just stare back with wide eyes. Your brain like a hamster on a wheel trying to think of a believable lie to hand him. He just rolls his eyes and forces you into bed. As irritated as he is, you’re his mess, and he’ll be damned if you embarrass him outside of that house. Besides, drunk you won't remember how much he lets himself enjoy cuddling you.
Shiesty!Mark is over the moon. If any of the Mark’s can get their hands on Viltrumite-grade alcohol, it’s him. And my man stays with a drink in hand (call him Julian [anyone get the reference??]). He’s grinning that smooth smile, all pretty and looking at you like he’s been praying for this moment all his life. He sits back on a sofa, arms draped over the back, and gestures vaguely in front of him in an open invitation for you. And you know him well enough to know exactly what he’s asking for and for once, you’re more than happy to oblige. You dance for him in a way that’s less than elegant, but the commitment is to be commended. And honestly, it’s the most perfect thing he’s witness in his life. Because it’s you.
Prisoner!Mark likes that you feel comfortable enough around him to get intoxicated like this. He would never join you – not that he’d know how to even if he wanted to – because with your inhibitions lowered keeping you safe becomes a Def Con Level 1 priority. But he’s intentional about not letting you see how on alert he is, because he wants you to enjoy yourself. Your openness in fact encourages him to tell you stories about his time in the Viltrumite prison – something he’s never told you before. He’s sure to keep them on the lighter side though (if anything that happens in that hell hole could be described as light). But seeing you loose makes him want to be a little looser too.
Mohawk!Mark is far too pleased with this situation. He’s teasing you relentlessly. “No way – goody two-shoes actually knows how to get fucked up?” Like the reckless man he is, he’s pushing the limits of your tolerance. Handing you drink after drink, shot after shot, zeroed in on every little stage and change he sees in you. Your nonsensical rambling is hilarious to him, and honestly kind of adorable. He lets himself soften a bit, a rare thing for him, because he knows you won't remember it in the morning and being tender is his own kind of intoxication. The drunker you get, the gentler he becomes until at the end of the night he has you tucked in bed with a glass of water on standby. He loves you dammit. You’ll just never remember.
Retro!Mark is aghast. This is not how a proper adult conducts themselves. He’s seeing a side of you he didn’t know existed and quite frankly, he’s not pleased. He’s ushering you away from any public prying eyes. The last thing he needs is some lowlife schlub thinking you’re easy just because you’re acting foolish. I mean, what are you wanting right now? For him to make a massacre of this bar? For him to rip the intestines from the bartender for not realizing one drink was one too many when it came to you? He gets you on lock down and tries his best not to crack a smile at the way you sing his name and look at him like he put the stars in the sky.
Emperor!Mark surprisingly gets it. He runs an empire. Wine and alcohol flow like a river around that place. He’s never had the luxury of getting sloshed, but he doesn’t mind if you do. He likes seeing you happy, and he knows no one would be stupid enough to step to you and try something out of pocket. In fact, he loves how bold you get. The way you really lean into the “royalty” mentality. Bossing people around (even if you’re giggling afterward) and calling shots like you were born for that lifestyle. He loves it even more when you try to assert dominance on someone and they give a sort of resistance, and all you do is look back over your shoulder at him because you know he’ll handle the rest. And trust, he does. With much pleasure.
Full-Mask!Mark feels a kind of warmth seeing you cut loose so much. He’s so used to being weighed down internally with the shitty cards of life. His mind is cesspool of horror, and normally you try to be so soft and somber with him, like you’re scared any other emotion won’t register correctly. But he knows his heaviness is his own to carry and not yours. So seeing you finally unwind, laugh openly, act silly – he truly relishes in the moment. He’s playing along with any ridiculous game you might want to play and not calling you out when your stories don’t make sense or you forget midsentence what you were talking about. You’re happy. And that means everything to him.
Melee!Mark is probably the best match to your energy on nights like this. You both are typically well-disciplined people. You know how to have fun, no doubt, but you also are both in the mindset of keeping your wits about you. That kind of comes with the territory of living in the universe that you do. But every once in a while, a night of pure release, fun, and relaxation is exactly what is called for. He’s not as privy to the intergalactic alcohol market as Mohawk, Shiesty, or Lensless might be so the chances of him getting drunk with you are pretty slim, but he still finds ways relax fully into the moment. It feels like a night of two drunk college kids on spring break, even if only one of you will properly remember what transpired the next morning.
coming home drunk to the apartment you share with roomate!megumi ᝰ.ᐟ fem!reader, megumi is a grouch per usual, lowkey cares about you but won’t admit it, characters are in college
a hiccup rumbles from your chest as you stumble your way to the front door, drunkenly giggling at yourself when you realize just how long its taken you to make it down the hallway without tripping over your own two feet.
the fuzzy pink puffball you have on your keychain keeps getting in the way as you shuffle your keys to try and find the right one, and you quietly groan in annoyance because all you want to do is get inside and all of a sudden you really have to pee. your vision is slightly foggy, and though your acrylic nails aren’t that long they are definitely not helping, considering your motor skills have already dwindled due to the shots in your system.
“gym, no… pool, no… car, mom’s house, mailbox— oh for fuck’s sake-“ you sigh, grabbing onto everything but what you need. “oh, yes! finally,” your eyes flutter in relief when you finally get your hands on your house key, your purse slipping from your shoulder down to the crook of your forearm as you angle yourself to stick it in the doorknob.
and just as you’re about to turn the key, it turns for you, and with a tilt of your head you watch as the door swishes open to reveal none other than your roommate, megumi fushiguro, in the doorway.
now normally in the off campus student apartments partnered with your university, roommate matches were strictly curated on a same-sex basis. however, since ‘megumi’ is traditionally a female name there was a slight mix up with the leasing office and by the time they’d been made aware of their mistake it was too late to do anything about it as all available leases had been signed.
neither of you were necessarily thrilled about it at first, in fact, you found out from housing management that both of you had come on different days to complain and see if another arrangement could be made because just a few days afterwards an email addressing the both of you was sent out, essentially saying ‘no, good luck with that though!’.
but you’d since become accustomed to the little mishap. it came as a pleasant surprise to you that megumi wasn’t terrible company to keep around, and he was actually kind of funny when he wasn’t busy hating the world. he kept his music low enough to not bother you, he didn’t eat your groceries, he never left the toilet seat up, and he even took on the responsibility of taking out the trash because he knows you hate touching icky things.
his ink colored hair is messier than usual as he stands before you and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him with bedhead this intense. he looks like he’s been shocked.
“jesus, it’s almost 2am in the morning,” sharp eyes peer down at the slight sway of your smaller frame. “where have you been?” his voice is rough and it sounds like he’s reprimanding you, but you’ve come to find out that’s just how megumi talks. he’s actually worried about you and that’s clear in the way his eyes flood with genuine concern.
but you don’t notice, because he’s shirtless as he stands in front of you with a hand on his hip like a disgruntled father, and that only further directs you to the basketball shorts that hang low on his waist. your eyes float down his etched torso and flutter a little when they reach the gentle brush of his raven happy trail, finally stopping at his prominent v-line before he’s kissing his teeth and tugging you inside because all you can do is stand there and look dumb when you’re supposed to be answering his question. and although you look cute while doing it, he’d never actually tell you that.
with a quiet yelp you shuffle your way in and he locks the door behind you, turning around to face you with a less than pleased look.
“how did you get home?” he interrupts you before you can answer. “did someone drive you? you’re drunk.”
you bring your hand to and away from your head in a ‘duh’ motion.
“nooo shit sherlock, couldn’t tell,” you snicker, because right about now everything is absolutely hilarious, even down to the slight slur of your words. you bend over and nearly fall forwards with a ‘whoops!’ while you slip the heels off your feet and his hands are already out just in case he needs to catch you. like a reflex. he watches you bring your wobbly body back up and brush the hair from your face, the whole act taking a lot more effort due to your tipsy state. hell you’re nearly out of breath when you finally answer him.
“my friends wanted to stay, i didn’t, so I took an uber.” you shrug, suddenly sticking the tip of your tongue out and plucking one of those small white fibers that float in the air from it.
his eyes almost blow from his skull.
“you took an uber? alone? in that little ass thing?” he huffs out in exasperation and uses a hand to gesture down at the tiny, tight black fabric you have the nerve to call a dress that stops just above your upper thighs.
you look down like you don’t know what you’re wearing and he frustratedly ruffles through his hair because you’re even more clueless than usual.
“why didn’t you call me? I would’ve came to get you!”
“stop yelling at me!” you whine. your hand goes to cradle your pounding head and your bottom lip pokes out into a pout. “i didn’t wanna wake you up…”
“i’m not-“ his agitation falters at the look you give him and he exhales, quickly nodding his head because he knows better to upset a girl when she’s drunk. you seriously sound like you’re about to cry and the last thing he wants to deal with is a show of tear-filled dramatics.
“okay, okay. i’m sorry.” megumi reaches forward and takes your bag and keys from your hands to set them on the kitchen counter across from you. “just… call me next time. they’re a bunch of weirdos out here and I don’t want you getting into any trouble. i won’t be mad if you wake me up, i do it for my sister all the time.”
megumi is rarely helpful let alone worried about you, at least to your knowledge, so it makes your chest heat up with what you really hope is happiness and not bile from how invested he seems in your well being. little do you know, he was tracking your location and that’s how he knew you were at the door in the first place.
chin lifting slightly, your lips slowly pull into an undeniable smirk, eyes narrowing at him and your expression is one he knows all too well because yuji gives him the same one everytime he talks about you. sighing, he dips his head to the side, shaking it as your smile only grows wider.
“don’t—“
“you care about meee!” you drawl, arms extending outwards as you ungracefully make your way towards him.
“no, not really.” his response is immediate, a brow raising as you approach him. he wears a small snarl now, hand held out apprehensively. “uh uh, do not-“
your arms wrap around his torso despite his resistance and his body tenses when you give him a tight squeeze, attempting to swing the both of you side to side. It doesn’t work, obviously, because he’s much larger than you and basically unmovable.
“you’re sweet when you’re worried, ‘gumi.” you hum and ignore him when he tells you not to call him that, and he’s quick to deflect because his face is suddenly getting hot and it’s annoying him. and maybe, if you weren’t off your ass, you would’ve noticed the gentle warmth of his hand resting over the small of your back. to steady you, of course.
“let go. you reek of desperate party goers and tequila. i hate tequila.” he grumbles, dramatically covering his nose to support his deflection. “i also think a shower wouldn’t hurt.”
you abruptly shove him away with a scoff and he can’t help but laugh at the look on your face, at the way your jaw drops in astonishment and your eye twitches. you can’t even sputter out a response, so you spin on your toes to stalk off instead which was a very bad idea seeing as you’re already dizzy, but you quickly regain your balance and continue on.
“you sure you can find your way there?” he teases, crossing his arms.
“oh, wouldn’t you just love to help me. I can feel you looking at my ass you perv!” you shout from down the hall, middle finger raised behind you.
he inhales sharply, eyes snapping up from where he didn’t even realize they’d fallen. he pulls the inside of his cheek between his teeth and curtly nods to himself.
“yup, i’m going to bed.”
once megumi hears the shower shut off after about twenty minutes, the normal for you, he deems it safe to close his eyes and sleep— the fear of you passed out because you’d somehow slipped and hit your head on the tub long gone from his mind.
he’s laying on his side with an arm folded under his head and asleep when you carefully crack his door open, a big t-shirt you used to love (that now has a few unfortunate bleach stains on it) and a pair of cotton sleep shorts on your body as you slip through the opening. you move at a snail’s pace when you go to shut it, but then the door creaks, and with an eye pinched closed your face screws into a wince, shoulders tensing and you immediately freeze in your tracks.
dreadfully, you peak over at the lump in the dark that‘s megumi’s figure, but the sound didn’t wake him up and you let out a small breath at that. he’s still turned over with his bicep tucked under his head. tiptoeing your way over, you nearly trip over a stray sweatshirt on the floor but quickly catch yourself with a crabbed huff.
trying to cause as little commotion as possible, you delicately peel his blankets back with just your pointer finger and your thumb, the same way you’d done to that random pair of his boxers that had somehow ended up mixed in with your load of laundry last week. a silent prayer to somehow become weightless recites in your mind as you carefully sit down on the opposite side of his bed, head swishing over your shoulders to peer at his back every now and then in hopes of catching any sign of him stirring so you can bail before it’s too late.
and you’re sure you’re in the clear now, but just as you go to swing your legs over, your ear catches a faint grunt from beside you. your teeth catch your lip, eyes shutting as you steel yourself and mouth a muted curse.
megumi was up the moment he felt the bed dip, sleep immediately leaving him once he’d turned his head and saw you sitting on his mattress. certainly he’s hallucinating. certainly, you are not sitting on his bed right now. he rapidly blinks the mist from his vision and you can feel his searing gaze boring into the back of your head, even more so when you continue to lay down as if what you’re doing is completely normal.
“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” his voice is groggy and oozing with irritation, you can tell by the way his tone harshly nips at your ears. he’s even grumpier when his sleep is disrupted.
“um… going to bed.” you mumble, hesitantly pulling the linen fabric over your shoulder as you sink lower.
megumi can’t tell if he’s dreaming or having a nightmare. he’s propped on his elbow now, face screwed into one of incredulity at the gall of your answer.
“have you lost your mind? or are you that drunk where you’ve forgotten where your own room is?”
while your head is still spinning and that clearly explains why you’d even had the courage to walk your ass down the hall and to his door, that’s not the reason you’re here.
you wish the mattress would just open up and swallow you whole.
“i threw up on my bed.” your voice is small when you answer.
it’s silent for a few seconds but you swear it feels like a minute, and the only thing you think you can hear is the blood rushing to your face from sheer embarrassment. with bated breath you roll your lips between your teeth.
he mutters something unintelligible, quiet enough so you can’t hear, his body collapsing onto the bed and your lungs filling with much needed air when his bare back turns towards you once again. the sheets tugging in his direction when he pulls them over his body.
“if i feel so much as one cold toe touch my leg i swear to god you’re sleeping on the floor.”
and if only god knew megumi was bluffing, the heavens would strike him down right where he lay.
sheisty mark with a sweet and soft-spoken/introverted reader? (civilian or hero)
the snarky attitude, immature behavior, foul language didn’t stop you from wanting mark grayson any less. mark on the other hand enjoyed the seemingly innocent or soft spoken act, he needed someone to even him out.
“y’know, you could drop the entire sweetie pie act babe.” mark snickered as he threw a piece of popcorn at your head, falling into your lap as you turned to look at mark confused—“what do you mean?” he sighed and laid his legs in your lap, the popcorn bowl on his stomach as he waved his hands in the air. “the whole thing, you act like this.. not to be rude or nothin’, but you’re basically like a puppy.” mark snapped his figures as he figured out the term, “kicked puppy! there we fucking go, that’s the word baby. you look like a kicked puppy all the time whenever you’re with me. whys that?” he hummed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth as mark awaited your answer. the turned your attention back to the movie playing on his TV, trying to find the words of his very accusatory tone. “i don’t know, i never really noticed that before. good observation, baby.” you rubbed marks leg, watching the movie as mark scoffed, completely unsatisfied with your answer—“were you like this before?” you shrugged, “i mean i don’t think so. but i guess we don’t notice our habits until someone points them out, like how you always shove your legs in my lap.” mark paused before shrugging in response as well, deciding not to argue with your own analyzation.
mark didn’t want to look deeper into how he acted around you, but he began to notice the little things you’d both do. he noticed how you liked folding clothes, placing his clothes in a neat pile before you began your own. or how’d you wash every fruit and vegetable before cutting them into bite size pieces and serving them to him. mark never noticed how you’d treat him like you both were married, but he was going to complain either. all mark could do was stand in the sidelines and observe your behavior, even if you thought he was acting a little weird by doing this. you thought mark was relatively outgoing, some would say not in the good way but you enjoyed how mark didn’t hesitate to get his way. a few have claimed he was spoiled, but you never viewed him in that way ever. you were envious how he was able to voice his own opinion, not worried about the repercussions of his actions and dealing with the consequences later. that had to be your favorite part about dating mark, how he’d go out of his way to make sure you were both satisfied with everything.
“you got a little, wait hold still for me baby.” you grabbed a napkin from the table, wiping marks cheek as he hissed like a child. the maple syrup stuck to marks cheek, yet you were able to remove most of the leftovers as you smiled and laughed at his banter—“i could’ve done that myself babe.” he complained, yet there was no real harsh intent with his words as he shoved another syrup-chocolate-pancake piece down his throat. you smiled and continued eating your own food, the brunch special you both ordered and divided amongst yourselves made mark full by the end of the meal. he’d snuck more then five bites from your food, filling himself more and more as you both finished. marks plate was completely spotless, almost little to no trace was left from his stack of pancakes, while your lunch meal was nearly gone. he grabbed a fork and began picking at the leftover crumbs, licking the utensils as you watched with a goofy smile on your face. mark was your complete opposite, the sun to your moon and stars, yet he always managed to sweep you off your feet, literally.
…
“god just order another round of pancakes for me ill make room.”
a/n: IM FORCING MYSELF OUTTA WRITERS BLOCK BLEEEHHH
jbbartram-illu
stormborns
yousharknotpass
2087
izzy806
titsay
theartofmadeline
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